


Inside Edition

by Huntress79, romanticalgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Journalism, M/M, Magazine Article
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 23:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19778905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79, https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: No one's gotten an interview with Steve Rogers since Captain America was found in the ice. Bucky Barnes has, thanks to a previous article on Tony Stark, gotten a month-long, all-access pass to the life of Captain America.Along the way, he also meets Steve Rogers, and learns that even though they look the same, sound the same, andarethe same, they're two very different people.





	Inside Edition

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/8e/80/vRp1PLXJ_o.png)

*********************

_The first thing I hear as I step out of the elevator is Captain America telling Iron Man, “Tony, you know how much I hate this shit.”_

_I’d been warned by Pepper Potts, president of Stark Industries, that Captain Rogers wasn’t exactly the person his propaganda made him out to be, and I’d told her that’s exactly why I wanted to do this story. But still, it’s a little unnerving to hear the person you’ve had touted as the paragon of virtue all your life curse. It’s like the first time you realize that your parents are actually just people._

_There’s a slight tinge of red to the Captain’s cheeks as Stark’s AI JARVIS, who basically runs the building’s security as well as acts as a disembodied butler, announces me, and it’s clear that I’d heard what he said._

_He recovers, though the blush still stains his cheeks, and holds out his hand. I shake it, squeezing slightly. He doesn’t respond, probably used to people testing their strength against his. He lets go and it’s his press smile that he’s wearing. “Steve Rogers.”_

_“Bucky Barnes. I’d thank you for agreeing to do this, but I’m guessing you’re doing it under duress.”_

_“Not exactly.”_

_“Cap doesn’t like talking about himself,” Stark interjects. “He’s afraid he’ll bore you to tears, and he gets all mushy when people cry.”_

_Rogers sighs. “Ignore Tony.”_

_“I did an article on him two years ago. I learned that lesson quickly.” Rogers laughs and Stark squawks, so I give myself points in my favor. Given that Rogers isn’t keen on this, getting him onto my side has to work to my advantage._

_“Stark has you staying down the hall from me. I’ll show you the way.”_

_I follow Rogers through a maze of corridors leading away from the elevator that had deposited me on the floor, deeper into the building. No floor to ceiling windows here, though the walls aren’t the same flavor of bland most offices and office buildings have. Stark’s the reason for that. He says depressed workers make depressed work. I wonder what depressed super soldiers do._

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

Bucky reread his words and nodded. A decent start to the story anyway. A month in the life of a superhero was a story Kimberly had pitched and volunteered Bucky for. It had started with Stark and that had been as far as it’d gone until Bucky had the balls to put in a request to Pepper Potts and wormed his way here.

Staying down the hall from Rogers actually meant staying in Rogers’s suite of rooms. He supposed it was an apartment, but it seemed too much like a hotel for him to call it that. There was no personality to the place, and if it wasn’t for what he’d heard when he first walked in, he’d’ve chalked that up to Rogers himself.

He’s staying for a month, so he unpacked the clothes he brought with him and laid his toiletries out in the bathroom that was about three sizes bigger than the one in his apartment. It might actually be the size of his apartment.

Finished with that in an embarrassingly short time, Bucky went out to the living room and looked around. One entire wall was bookshelves, and he’s drawn to that. There was a shelf solely of Captain America-related books, and Bucky raised an eyebrow. Not what he expected.

“Tony’s idea of a joke. Every time I try to get rid of them, they show up again. I’ve given up.” 

Bucky looked away from the books and over at Steve. “You have no idea how relieved I am.”

“I bet I do.”

The first night is quiet. Captain Rogers read, a furrow in his brow. Bucky couldn’t even parse the title and teased him about light reading. Rogers looked up, that flush on his cheeks again. It took a minute for Bucky’s brain to catch up to what he was hearing. 

“Another of Tony’s jokes. Someone wrote a book about how my shield couldn’t have worked like it did – does – because it defies the laws of physics. Said that all of the war footage was faked. So I’m learning physics just to prove him wrong.”

“Tony or the writer?”

Rogers shrugged and smiled. “Both? I’d be okay with both.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_Rogers wakes up at five in the morning. I know this because he turns on the news and talks back to it. He is, as Stark will later unknowingly agree with me, a “sarcastic little shit.” He’s equally snarky to both sides of the aisle._

_When I stumble out, no doubt looking like some sort of cryptid, he shrugs without apology. “In my day, newspapers seemed a lot more balanced, but looking back, there was a lot of propaganda. War does that to a country, I guess. Or it used to. War today is a lot different.”_

_“I was in the Army,” I inform him, both because it’s true and also to see his reaction. He looks at me for a long time, and I can’t quite get a read on what he’s thinking before his expression goes blank._

_“So you know.” He drinks from a glass, possibly a protein smoothie. “You’re supposed to follow me everywhere, right?”_

_With anyone else, it might be a come on. With Steve Rogers, it’s simply a question. “Within reason.”_

_He smirks like he knows what I’m thinking. “I’m going for a run with Sam. Well, Sam’s going to meet me in an hour after I get most of my run out of my system. Do you want to come now or do you want to meet us?”_

_“How fast do you run?”_

_Rogers just smirks, which means I probably don’t want to know, but I walk with him to the park anway. It’s early enough that it’s quiet – mostly serious runners and a commuter or two. Along the way, it’s easy to ask him questions. He seems more inclined to answer when he doesn't have to look at me._

_“Do you run every day?”_

_“I try to. I don’t have to – the serum takes care of everything, for the most part. I have to work out, don’t get me wrong. The serum gave me the muscles, but I have to keep them up. Running’s something I do more for myself.”_

_“How do you mean?”_

_“I have to be on all the time. When I’m out in public, when we’re out doing our jobs.” He’s wearing a hat, which doesn’t do anything to disguise the fact that he’s Captain America. Probably nothing can. He’s very distinctive. “When I run I don’t have to be anything to anyone. It’s not always good. A lot of times I get in my head too much. But it’s more freedom than I have most of the other times in my life.”_

_We walk for a while and every time I glance over, his brow is furrowed and he’s biting his lower lip. He keeps opening his mouth as if to say something, but never manages to say it until he stops by a bench and starts to stretch._

_“Does that sound ungrateful? I’m not. I became this because I wanted to do the right thing, and I’m trying to do that. I know I have a lot of advantages. I try and use those to help people who don’t.” He shrugs and straightens, his arms folded across his chest. It’s not how you expect Captain America to stand. He’s the kind of guy, the kind of hero, to have his hands on his hips like he’s the living embodiment of Superman._

_I have a feeling, at this moment, I might be talking to Steve Rogers. That’s confirmed when he speaks again._

_“I was sick when I was a kid. You name it, I probably suffered from it. I lied about where I was from, but I never thought to lie about what was wrong with me when I tried to enlist. You’d think after about ten times, I would have figured it out.”_

_“Ten?”_

_“About. Yeah. When I got in the room with Dr. Erskine, I thought I was going to jail. Instead I ended up like this.”_

_“With everything you know now, would you do it again?”_

_He doesn’t even pause before answering. “Yes. Because knowing what I know now? If I hadn’t, the world would be a much different place.”_

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

He didn’t have much to do after that. The Avengers were scheduled for a bunch of press outings regarding the cleanup of the latest alien invasion. After that there was a dinner at the White House. Bucky’s all-access pass to Captain America meant he was at both, but seated far enough away that all he saw were polite handshakes and fake smiles. 

Steve spent most of his time with Black Widow and Sam Wilson, and they seemed to be keeping him distracted. Given that Stark was talking to one of the Senators most outspoken about her dislike of super heroes in general and the Avengers in specific, that was probably a good thing. 

The ride back to the Tower was quiet, with Rogers leaning back on the seat with his eyes closed. Bucky watched him. He respected the quiet, since Rogers has been “on” all day. Bucky couldn’t imagine what that would be like, to have everyone want something from you.

“No questions?” 

“I think you deserve a break.”

“You might be the only one.” He opened one eye and looked at Bucky. “Have you been to the White House before?”

“No.”

“It’s always the same people. They want pictures they can show to their constituents. Say they met Captain America or Iron Man or one of the others. Like that means we support them.”

“Even Senator McGovern?”

“She actually doesn’t care. It’s kind of nice.” He opened the other eye and actually smiled. It seemed sincere. Tired, but sincere. “Does everything I tell you end up in your article?”

“I’m not sure what will go in it. But any conversation we have might.”

“See?” He said sadly. “Always on.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_I let Rogers go on his run by himself, largely because it’s impossible to keep up with him, and I’d just be sitting on the bench, but also because it gives me a chance to talk to some of his coworkers. I don’t know how honest they’ll be, but I do know that Pepper Potts talked to everyone before I arrived. I imagine I’ll be getting the party line._

_“Steve’s a dumbass.” Sam Wilson – Falcon – apparently isn’t running with Steve today, and he’s far more open that I expect. “I mean, you can’t call it a hero complex, because he is a legitimate hero, but taking a day off now and then wouldn’t kill him.”_

_“It might.” Natasha Romanov – Black Widow – doesn’t look up from where she’s sharpening, ahem, filing her nails. “Steve doesn’t know how not to work. He looks at the world around us and sees what a mess it is. It’s not his responsibility, but everyone makes it seem like it is.”_

_“He doesn’t know how to say no.” Wilson shrugs in response to Romanov’s comment. “Erskine gave him the serum, but it was like Zeus making Atlas hold up the heavens.”_

_“How so?”_

_Wilson shrugs, looks at Romanov, then back at me. “He told Steve he was doing the right thing. That people were counting on him. He told Steve to hold it, and now he doesn’t know how to put it down.”_

_Romanov doesn’t say anything, and there’s no expression on her face to tell me if she agrees or disagrees with Wilson’s assessment. Wilson looks at her after a while, and while it’s awkward, the silence isn’t exactly uncomfortable. Finally she tilts her head to the side._

_“Do you remember what the world was like before he came out of the ice?”_

_It’s surprisingly hard to think back. Captain America has been a thread through all of our lives. Myth. Legend. Someone to aspire to. How many kids got told that Captain America would be disappointed in them? How many read their parents’ old comics?_

_It hasn’t been that long since they announced he was alive, since he walked onto the news with the rest of the Avengers, but life before the Chitauri and the newly revived Rogers seems like it was a lifetime ago._

_“I didn't grow up with Captain America. He was a footnote, if that. When I first met him, I thought he was too good to be real. And that’s what all of you think. But he is real. I’m not sure anyone will ever believe that.”_

_I sit alone in what they call the common room after Romanov and Wilson leave. The goal of my article is to show the world the man behind the mask, but I realize that I need to get Rogers to let me see him first. I’m not sure how long I’m alone before Rogers himself walks in. He’s freshly showered and wearing a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. He’s still imposing, but there’s something unerringly human about him like this._

_“Good run?”_

_“Yeah.” He nods and goes to the refrigerator that’s tucked off in the kitchenette on the far side of the room. “You want anything?”_

_“What have you got?”_

_“It’s Stark’s place. What do you want?”_

_“How about water?”_

_“He has that. I’ll just pick one rather than make you choose from the seven, no eight, different kinds in here.”_

_He comes back with two waters, handing one to me before he sits down. He doesn’t sit so much as sprawl. He looks tired again, and I’m beginning to think that’s his default. What Wilson had said about Atlas seems very apropos. He seems like he’s carrying the weight of the world._

_“Did Sam and Nat give you all the dirt? How many times a day I shower? How much I eat in a sitting? How I take my coffee?”_

_“Something like that.”_

_“Whatever they said, you should take it with a grain of salt. Everyone in this Tower is pretty much full of shit.”_

_“They said you were a good guy.”_

_“See? Full of shit.” He smiles, then levers himself off the couch. “You want to come down to the gym?”_

_I don’t remind him that he’d just gotten back from a two hour run as we take the elevator down, somewhere underneath the Tower. The gym is like something out of a science fiction movie, which knowing Stark, isn’t that surprising. I berate my observation skills, because it’s not until we get there that I notice he’s carrying a circular leather case. I can’t think of anything else it could be._

_Rogers looks at me with the most self-satisfied grin. “Let me guess, you want to touch it.”_

_“Does everyone come up to you and ask to touch your shield?” Rogers snorts, and I realize exactly how bad that sounds. “Well.”_

_He takes it out of the carrier and hands it over to me. It’s lighter than I expected, but it seems unwieldy, like it’s too big or cumbersome to be effective. Rogers watches me as I slip my arm into the straps. Like that it’s even more awkward._

_He nods to a doorway as he takes the shield back. “Go upstairs.”_

_The doorway leads up to a viewing area. Rogers talks to JARVIS and a series of targets appear out of nowhere. Rogers shucks his sweats, so he’s just in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Out of uniform he’s even more impressive._

_Without preamble, he starts tossing the shield around the room, hitting every holographic target. Then the targets start moving, and projectiles are flying at Rogers. Scientists have been studying Rogers’s fighting patterns, and they all come to the conclusion that the shield doesn’t obey the laws of physics._

_I'm no scientist, but watching Rogers hurl the shield, use it to deflect and dodge the projectiles, I’m pretty sure they’re right. Equally unbelievable is watching Rogers hide all six-foot plus, two-hundred-whatever pounds of himself behind it. I’m not sure if that’s physics, but I am sure it shouldn’t be possible._

_I look at my watch when the simulation finishes, and I’m shocked to see he’s been at it for an hour. His shirt is see-through with sweat, but he’s not breathing hard, nor does he look tired. Heading downstairs to the gym, I try to restrain myself, but I can’t quite manage._

_“That was amazing.”_

_“You want amazing, you should watch Nat and Clint.” The self-deprecating shrug should be more surprising, but I’m beginning to realize that Rogers doesn’t think much of himself for his abilities. “They’re just people, you know? No powers, no fancy suits. Nothing but themselves. Tony once said everything special about me came out of a bottle.”_

_The matter-of-fact way he says it is actually more startling than the words themselves. “What?”_

_“He’s right.”_

_“Dr. Erskine thought you were special before the serum. Peggy Carter too. I don’t think they were wrong.”_

_He zips the case around the shield. “How do you feel about Greek food?”_

_“I’m a fan.”_

_“Good. I’m starving. Let me take another shower and we’ll go.”_

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

He’d finished up his notes, marked things he wanted to look at in more detail. He’d gone through his daily Russian lesson on his phone app and played his daily mind-numbing phone games to unwind, and he still couldn’t sleep. 

With a sigh, he got off the bed and ventured out into the hallway. The lights were all out, but he could see a soft glow from the living room. He headed there, not surprised to see Rogers sitting on the couch. Though, from the vague stare locked on the screen, Bucky wasn’t sure Rogers was actually seeing what was in front of him.

He raised his hand to knock on the doorframe, but Rogers’s voice stopped him. “I heard you coming.”

Bucky looked him over. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt again, his apparent go-to outfit around the Tower. Bucky wasn’t complaining. Whether intentional or not, the way Rogers’s clothes fit him both left him well-defined, but something of a mystery. One Bucky kept finding himself wanting to solve.

The more they were together, the more Bucky realized he wanted to try and solve it with his hands and lips and tongue and… He cleared his throat. “Right. Super-hearing.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“No. You?”

“I don’t sleep much.” He nodded toward the TV. “ _Twilight Zone_ marathon.”

“Because that’s not nightmare fuel.”

Rogers looked at him, a small, rueful smile twisting his lips. “Is it? It seems more like telling stories to put the fear into perspective. Allegories. Nightmares are formless. Shapeless. You know what they’re about, but they’re never a story. No coherent narrative.” 

“The press always portrays you as a mouthpiece. Saying all the right things. Why don’t you show them the real you?”

“I thought that’s what you’re doing. A month in the life of Captain America. The man behind the shield. Tell me though. What good does it do to show the world that I’ve got PTSD?”

“Might help the other people that do. If Captain America has it, there’s no stigma to it.”

“If Captain America has it, what chance do I have?” He shook his head. “The press… You don’t build up heroes. You tear them down. Look at everything Tony’s done since he became Iron Man. And how often do you still hear stories about what a fuck-up he was, probably still is?”

He wasn’t wrong. Bucky wasn’t always proud of his profession. He went into the kitchen, hearing Rogers sigh as he left. He looked up, surprised, when Bucky settled next to him on the couch and handed him a beer. “What episode is next?”

“ _Nothing in the Dark_.”

“Irony’s a bitch.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_I used to think waking up to an alarm clock was bad, at least until I woke up to the Avengers call to assemble. I pull a pair of jeans on and rush out to the living room. Rogers is there in full uniform which, in person and up close, is something to behold._

_I stop there as the shield hooks onto the harness on his back, the leather straps a strange brown against the blue. He looks me over. “You might want to put some shoes on if you’re coming with.”_

_I’ve never put on tennis shoes as fast as I do, practically running to keep up with his long stride. He tells JARVIS to take us to the roof, and I realize as the door opens that I’m about to get on an Avengers Quinjet and go on a mission. I didn’t think about this part when I signed up for this article._

_“You can stay here.”_

_“Hell, no.”_

_We get on board, and I’m surrounded by all of the Avengers in full gear. There’s a lot of leather and spandex, or whatever it is that their uniforms are actually made out of, since I doubt spandex does much for protection. There’s a woman I’ve never seen standing at the front of the jet. She’s dressed all in black, and I’m fairly certain if she looks at me I’ll apologize without knowing why. And call her ma’am. Which will probably get me killed._

_“Really, Rogers?”_

_“A month in the life.” He shrugs and looks back at me. “Buckle up.”_

_The jet takes off at speeds that seem to defy the laws of physics as much as Rogers’s shield. I nearly topple over, but Rogers grabs me by my waistband and hauls me into a seat. My hands shake as I buckle up, and I wonder if the Avengers ever get nervous._

_I must ask it aloud because Wilson laughs. “You’ve got no idea, but you put that behind you the second boots are on the ground. Or in the air, as the case may be. First line of defense, you know. You don’t get the luxury of being scared.”_

_“If we’re done?” The woman at the front of the plane hits a button and then what I think might be a scene from _Jurassic Park_ is suddenly in front of us. “This is real-time from Brazil.”_

_A T-Rex heads straight for whatever is giving us the visual, roaring as it charges. “The Brazillian and surrounding governments have requested we come in. They’ve tried attacking with conventional weapons, and while it’s slowed some of them down, it’s mostly just pissed them off.”_

_“What’s our level of engagement?”_

_I hadn’t noticed Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes, given that he’s not in the War Machine armor. Of course, it’s hard to notice anyone else when Tony Stark is standing next to them in full red and gold regalia._

_“Whatever it takes to get this contained.”_

_“Any idea who’s behind this?”_

_“We have our people working on that. No threats were made, and no demands have been issued.”_

_“What’s the call, Cap?”_

_All of them are looking at Rogers, their de facto leader. In this, he has a different confidence from the man you see at press conferences. This is a man of solid steel. You can almost see him running scenarios. The greatest tactical mind of his generation. Probably ours too._

_“Tony, get Clint up as high as possible where he still has sight lines. Take a rifle. You’re not going to have a chance to reuse arrows with this. We’re going to have visibility problems for the three of you airborne. Sam, you have the least maneuverability in the trees. Stay up and provide cover fire, focus on the big ones. Romanov, stay on the jet and work with Sam.”_

_“Really?”_

_“I don’t think you can get your thighs around a T-Rex’s neck. I want you and Bruce in reserve.”_

_I’m not sure what the thigh comment means, but it conjures up images that make me – and probably most red-blooded males – want to see her in action._

_“If we’re overrun or overwhelmed, I want the big guy to come in. You’re likely our best shot, Bruce, but if we can keep the T-Rex otherwise distracted, the rest of us can get the smaller ones, and we’ll save you until the end. Unless it looks bad, then I want you both on the ground.”_

_“You sure, Steve?”_

_Banner almost sounds relieved, but after what happened in Harlem, I imagine he doesn’t like being the Hulk much. Also given his known feelings on ecology, preservation, and sustainability, he probably doesn’t want to knock down any of the age-old trees, though I imagine the rogue dinosaurs are wreaking enough havoc on their own._

_“Yes. I don't want to use up all our resources all at once. Tony, Rhodey. I want you on the heavily armored ones. Don’t assume everything that’s a herbivore is harmless. They’re likely panicked and who knows if they’ve been genetically altered in the process of being brought to life. Have we heard from Thor?”_

_“We’re trying to reach him, but he’s off-world.”_

_The absurdity of the Avengers’ job hits me then. One of their strongest fighters is off-world, and they’re about to go into battle against extinct creatures. JARVIS’s voice interrupts any other conversation. “We’re over the area.”_

_“Okay. You know your jobs.” The rear of the jet lowers and Rogers strides toward it, buffeted by the wind. “Let’s go punch some dinosaurs.” He turns and jumps out of the plane._

_“Goddamn it, Rogers,” Stark growls, jumping out after him._

_“Was he wearing a parachute?” I ask Romanov._

_“I don’t think he believes they exist.”_

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

Watching the battle unfold was surreal. Seeing pteranodons flying through the air and hearing them shriek; the roars of the T-Rex that, in person, sent chills up and down Bucky’s spine. This was the kind of thing man wasn’t meant to see or hear. Seeing a movie was different than the real thing, than the sheer terror that came when Romanov snapped out Banner’s name and the next thing he knew, there was a large green mass heading straight for the wide open jaws of an angry dinosaur.

She grabbed Bucky and dragged him to the copilot’s seat, shoving him down onto it. “Stay.”

“What?”

“I’ll maintain altitude. Be ready to get us out of here.” Bucky still didn’t know the name of the woman who was now piloting the jet.

“And make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just ran to the back of the jet and jumped out. Bucky stood, just in time to see Wilson grab her and fly her down.

“Jesus.”

The pilot flipped a switch and suddenly Bucky could hear them on the ground. He got up and moved closer to the windshield, ignoring the warning look he got from the woman. He couldn’t see much through the treetops save for the blasts from Rhodes and Stark’s suits. Occasionally he caught flashes of Barton’s arrows and of rifle shots, the flares from Sam’s guns.

“Banner!” He heard Rogers call out.

The roar of Hulk was different than that of the T-Rex, but somehow no less frightening. It echoed just as long and loud, and Bucky could see the T-Rex topple, headed toward the ground, when suddenly the sky darkened and lightning splits the air, filling it with ozone.

“You threw a party without me, friends?”

“I think you’re just fashionably late,” Stark said. “Next time read the time on the invitation.”

“Or at least RSVP.” Bucky saw Barton as he swung down from the tree, flipping a few times before he landed. The jet started to move, lowering toward the ground. The pilot – and really, Bucky needed to know her name so he could stop thinking of her by her job description – got out of her seat.

“JARVIS, keep us at this level.” She looked at Bucky. “You signed a waiver before this, right?” When Bucky nodded, she sighed. “Well, then. Are you coming?”

He wasn’t sure what his answer would be until he heard Romanov’s voice. “Has anyone seen Rogers?”

“Yeah,” Bucky stood up and followed her. “I’m coming.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_Apparently having an electrified dinosaur fall on you is a bit much even for a super soldier to handle. Despite the fact that it takes Rhodes in the War Machine suit to carry Rogers to the medical facility that Stark has in one of the top floors of the tower because he can’t actually move his legs, Rogers insists that he’s fine. I’ve been reassured by nearly every Avenger that this is typical behavior._

_S.H.I.E.L.D. and a few of the South American governments are working on cleanup, and no one argued when Romanov said they were taking Rogers back to the tower. The pilot – whose name is Agent Hill, apparently keeps giving Rogers looks that he very studiously avoids._

_Rogers gets out of the MRI just as three robots roll in with their – for lack of a better word -–arms filled with equipment. Stark sets it up and then there’s a holographic rendering of Rogers’s body in front of it. Rogers himself isn’t looking. His fists are clenched and his knuckles are a ghostly white. His teeth are sunk into his lower lip, biting hard enough that there’s a good chance he’s drawing blood as fast as the serum can heal the break in the skin._

_“Nothing can help him,” Wilson says quietly. We’re standing outside a glass room, watching what’s going on. “Pain-wise. He metabolizes everything too quickly. And he’s got the serum, and it rebuilds him, knits him back together, but it hurts. He won’t say it. Hell, he’d probably deny it, but it hurts.”_

_“Can’t Stark or Banner make something?”_

_“They’ve tried.Nothing works.”_

_“Okay, good news and bad news, Cap.”_

_“What’s the good news?” Romanov asks._

_“He has a broken pelvis.”_

_Barton snorts. “What’s the _bad_ news?” _

_“He’s going to have to stay in bed for at least a week.”_

_“I’m fine,” Rogers grits out between his teeth. No one believes him._

_Wilson crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, the guy is brilliant, but he’s the dumbest asshole I’ve ever met. I give him five hours before he tries to get out of bed.”_

_“Three.”_

_Wilson looks at Romanov. “He’s too tired. He’s going to crash for a while. I’m sticking with five.”_

_“You’re both wrong.” Rhodes sighs and shakes his head. We all look over and Rogers is actually attempting to sit up. Stark jabs him lightly and Rogers falls back to the bed._

_“See? Dumbest asshole I’ve ever met.”_

_“Blunt force trauma will keep him down for a few minutes.” Romanov shrugs when I look at her. “He’s very stubborn. And he heals.”_

_“You guys are his friends, right?” I can’t help but ask. I’d say with friends like these, who needs enemies, but given that I know what kind of enemies Rogers faces on a regular basis, they’re actually pretty good._

_“We take better care of him than he takes of himself.”_

_The exam room door opens, and Banner wheels Rogers out. He’s obviously still in pain, and as the rest of the Avengers all separate, I tag along after them. Rogers turns his head and glances back at me. “You’re okay?”_

_“Me?” I point at myself, and I probably sound just as incredulous as I feel._

_“You stayed on the jet? You’re okay?”_

_“Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”_

_“Ha,” Stark barks a laugh. “The day Rogers doesn’t worry about everyone else more than himself is going to mean hell is just as cold as the ice he was buried in.”_

_It's probably easy for them to be flippant about horrific things. Stark was tortured, Banner created a monster. I know there are other horror stories that make up all of the Avengers’ pasts, but where Stark hides it behind jokes and Banner behind good deeds, Rogers seems to hide it behind a stoic mask. I can’t help but wonder if and when that mask will crack._

_They get him situated on his bed and Stark glares at him. “Now, stay put or Thor’s going to put Mjolnir on your chest and you won’t be going anywhere until we say so. Actually, let’s do that anyway. Hey, Thor! JARVIS. Find Thor.”_

_Banner follows Stark out of the room and I realize that I’m in Captain America’s bedroom. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe something spartan, utilitarian. Military corners and olive drab. Or maybe red, white, and blue everywhere. Instead it’s done up in grays and blues. There’s an armchair and a table with a lamp on it in one corner, a dresser, a desk, a bookcase, and a bed that is whatever is larger than a California King. Possibly it was specially made._

_“You mind if I stay here for a while?”_

_Rogers turns his head and looks at me before closing his eyes. “You going to ask me questions?”_

_“If you’ll let me.”_

_“Just give me a few minutes.”_

_I’m not sure how long I wait before I realize he’s asleep._

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

Watching Rogers sleep seemed a little too much even for Bucky. Instead he snooped around his room, which was probably worse. He went to the bookcase first, and it was clear this one is the one Rogers used regularly. 

There were a few history books, mostly biographies; another shelf was filled with science fiction and pop culture, a few graphic novels – ones with cultural precedence like _The Dark Knight, Watchmen, Maus, Persepolis, Sandman, The Crow_. Another had classics – _To Kill a Mockingbird, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, And Then There Were None, Lord of the Rings, One Hundred Years of Solitude, 1984, The Invisible Man, Catch-22_ –- and YA books – _The Phantom Tollbooth, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Westing Game, Where the Sidewalk Ends, A Wrinkle in Time, The Outsiders_. The bottom shelf is filled with what had to be used books – pulp detective novels and romances from the forties. 

The top of his dresser had a watch, cufflinks, change, and photographs. Peggy Carter was displayed prominently, as well as one of him with the Howling Commandos. There was one of him and Wilson, another with Romanov. A newspaper photo taken right after the Chitauri incident was in a frame as well: all six of the original Avengers, dirty and clearly exhausted, but victorious. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what it meant to Rogers.

There were clean clothes on the dresser, but Bucky wasn’t that bold. Instead, he went back to the bookcase and pulled out _I Take this Man_ , one of the romances on the bottom shelf, and settled onto the armchair. 

He was half-asleep when a loud gasp jerked him out of his chair. Rogers was propped up on his elbows, breathing fast and shallow. Bucky hurried over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down to the bed. 

“It’s okay. Breathe. Nice and slow. You’re home. Safe.

“Fuck.” All the fight seemed to go out of him, and he closed his eyes. The rough grittiness of Rogers’s voice took him by surprise almost as much as the curse. “How long was I out?”

Bucky glanced at the clock on the dresser. “Roughly three hours.”

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Can you order some food from the diner that I like? Breakfast foods. Lots of them.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“And whatever Barnes wants.”

He didn’t realize how hungry he was until the mention of food. “Breakfast is good for me too, JARVIS. Thanks.”

Rogers closed his eyes again. “It takes a lot out of me. Healing. Especially from big stuff like this. Sleep. Food. I need a lot of both, but I don’t always sleep well. I probably shouldn’t say that, huh? I can see every bad guy in the tri-state area realizing they need to attack the day after someone else does so they catch us when I’m down for the count.”

“I’m not going to put anything that compromises you or what you do in the article. That’s not what this is about.”

“What is it about, exactly?”

“Humanizing you. All anyone knows these days is the legend. The vaunted hero who sacrificed his life for baseball, apple pie, hot dogs, and the American Way. The man who won the war against Hydra and actually ended the War in Europe. That guy? He’s not real.”

“No one will believe you.”

“Yeah, well. A lot of people don’t believe the Holocaust happened or that we landed on the moon. Doesn’t mean they’re right.”

Rogers huffed a laugh that looked like it hurt. “You can ask your questions now, but I might fall asleep. If I do, wake me when the food comes.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_Captain America is the pinnacle of all that is good and right with the world. Steve Rogers eats like a feral animal. He tears through an unholy amount of food, and it’s like a train wreck I can’t look away from. He says he needs calories after a battle and while he’s healing. It makes sense, but there are calories, and then there are calories. I manage to get three of the twenty pancakes, and a scoopful of scrambled eggs. He goes through the pancakes, what is probably a dozen eggs, a full pound of bacon, and about the same amount of sausage._

_I’m staring in both horror and awe by the time he licks syrup from his lips and drains his coffee. “I’m not sure how to feel about what I just saw.”_

_Rogers blushes. “Catching a falling dinosaur takes a lot out of you.”_

_“Is that what you’re calling what happened?”_

_“It’s all in the way you spin it.” He’s still in his bed, elevated on pillows so he’s leaning up enough that he can eat, but not so much that he’s putting any weight on his lower body. “All you guys know is that you found me underneath it. I could tell you that I was trying to paint its toenails and you couldn’t for sure call me a liar.”_

_“You typically take nail polish on Avenger calls?”_

_“You never know what you’re going to need.” He smiles and I’m struck by how open he seems. I'm not sure if it’s his body being preoccupied with healing or the tiredness or just that he has a full stomach, but he seems much more relaxed than he’s been over the past two weeks. I realize half my month is over, and I don’t know that I’ve met the real Steve Rogers at all._

_“So, you run and you save the world, ignore books about yourself and read everything else. You watch _Dancing with the Stars_...”_

_“I do not. Tony threatened to put me on the show. How do you think you got this interview?”_

_“So it was me or the merengue?”_

_He laughs. “Something like that.”_

_I’m sitting on the end of his bed, which is something I never thought I’d experience. In some ways it’s like being in high school again, hanging out with one of my friends from the baseball team. Which makes the next topic of conversation a given._

_“Do you date?”_

_He blushes again, and there’s a kind of charm to it. He looks down at his hands, somehow delicate even though he wields a heavy, sharp weapon nearly every day. “When I was a kid, no one gave me the time of day. I think the only women who knew I existed were the nuns at the orphanage, and that’s only because I was constantly getting into trouble. After that, I spent my time scrounging to get by until Erskine found me.”_

_“And then you met Peggy Carter?”_

_“You’ve seen her. She’s gorgeous. Smart and sexy and so, so competent. She punched out one of the assholes in boot camp when he was giving her a hard time. I think I was in love the first moment I met her.”_

_“And she loved you.”_

_“I don’t know. She saw something in me at least. Nothing happened between us until after all of this happened.” He gestures at himself. “I know it wasn’t just about how I looked with her. But when people look at me now? They see this. And Captain America.”_

_“And not Steve Rogers?”_

_“I mean, I don’t blame them. Steve Rogers is a punk who thinks he’s always right, gets in fights, and is always afraid that someone’s going to look behind the curtain and find out the wizard is just some snake-oil salesman.”_

_“So tell me about Steve Rogers. What does he like?” He looks different when he closes his eyes. We’ve all seen pictures of him before the serum. Five foot and change, looked like a strong wind could blow him over, all bones and eyes and floppy hair, and maybe that’s what I’m seeing now. “What is he like?”_

_“Before the serum, he’d had his nose broken three times. The last time it didn’t get reset so good.” He taps the bump on his nose, the one endearingly human thing in the whole god-like physique. “He used to run booze for the Irish mob when money got really tight. Even though he was small, he could hold his liquor, and people lost money to him when they thought they could drink him under the table. He drew blue comics to make ends meet.”_

_“Wait a minute.” I know I’m staring at him like an idiot. “You drew dirty comics?”_

_“Times were tough.” He shrugs. “There were plenty of able-bodied men who needed work. They were going to get hired before I was. It was easy money. I was a good artist.”_

_“Holy shit.” I shake my head in wonder. “You realize the market for those just shot up and everyone’s going to be wondering which ones are Steve Rogers originals. Instead of selfies, people are going to come up to you and ask you to sign something pornographic.”_

_“I doubt I’d even recognize them now.”_

_“I thought you had an eidetic memory.”_

_“See? There are some things you just wish wouldn’t get out.” He laughs softly. “Shel Silverstein used to draw cartoons for Playboy, and he wrote some of the best-selling kids books out there”_

_“It’s all how you spin it, huh?” He shrugs, and his blush is even brighter than before. “Tell me some more about him.”_

_“Well, he – ”_

_I cut him off. “Why do you talk about him like he’s a different person?”_

_“Not sure Steve Rogers actually came out of the Vita-Ray machine.”_

_“You know Shel Silverstein drew comics for Playboy. I’m pretty sure Steve Rogers is alive and well in there.”_

_“I lived on the streets for a while, then I lived in the back room of a gay club. I used to wash dishes some nights, and I’d help the gals get dolled up. Touch up makeup, adjust things.” He laughs. “It certainly came in handy on the USO circuit.”_

_“You were a regular scoundrel, Mr. Rogers.”_

_“Steve.”_

_“What?”_

_“Call me Steve.”_

_“Okay, Steve. Tell me more about yourself.”_

_And he does. We lose track of time talking, and I learn about his mother who died when he was five, exactly how Dickensian orphanages were back in the day, how he got his knuckles smacked with a ruler so many times he spent days with them bloody._

_He tells me about penny candy and shoplifting, about Coney Island and rum running. He talks about marching in rallies and getting beat up in alleys. It’s like every story about who Steve Rogers really is has been inside him, and one simple question has broken the dam wide open._

_“So, let me get this straight. You helped distribute illegal alcohol, you helped set up a communist party group for a rally, you lived in a gay club, and you drew dirty comics. You’re right. I don’t think a single person will believe this.”_

_“Told you.”_

_“I’m going to have to find sources to support this. I don’t think ‘Captain America wouldn’t lie to me’ would actually work for my editor to print this.”_

[aside: It’s impossible to tell for sure which of the blue comic drawings might be Rogers’s, but there are pictures of him with a communist group and at a rally, though he’s half-hidden behind a banner. If you talk to some of the people still around from the gay scene in the thirties, they’ll tell you that no one ever believes them when they tell them Captain America himself used to make sure their “tits were on straight.” – see end of article for citation]

_”I don’t know what you’ll find. Not a lot of documentation of where I lived and what I did. Didn’t have digital cameras to take pictures of everything back then.” He yawns, which makes me yawn. I look at my watch, and realize we’ve been sitting there for five hours. Steve Rogers, for the first time since I walked into the building, feels as real to me as anyone in the Tower. More real perhaps._

_I’m not sure how much of that pertains to the life of Captain America though. Because even though he clearly enjoyed telling me about who he had been, Rogers keeps who he is and who he was separate. After this conversation he’s probably going to go back to talking about himself in the third person._

_And even given that he spent nearly seventy years buried in the ice, that might be the true tragedy of Captain America._.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

It felt strange, being there when Steve – and that felt strange as well – fell asleep mid-conversation. Bucky got up and adjusted the covers over him, then turned out the light before going into the living room.

“You seem friendly.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin as one of the shadows near the window resolved into Black Widow. “Holy shit.” He put his hand against his chest, his heart beating fast. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Mm.” She walked over to the kitchen and pulled herself up onto the counter. “Pepper trusts you. You did a decent, fair article on Stark. But he’s an easy target. There are a lot of people who’d like to knock Steve off the pedestal he’s on. The pedestal all of you have put him on.”

“I’m not trying to knock him off of it, I’m trying to help him get down. You, Stark, Barton, Wilson, Rhodes – you’re all human. Extremely skilled and dangerous, but human. Thor and Banner are other – a god and a creature, a monster.”

“He’s not a monster.”

“No. But that’s how the public sees him. He scares them. But Steve… He’s super-human. He’s the idealized version of a man. He’s Michaelangelo’s David. He’s all the good things.”

“You called him Steve.” One of her eyebrows is raised. “What happened to Rogers?”

“He asked me to call him Steve.”

“Did he now.” She hummed as she appraised him.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not so far.” She hopped off the counter and went to the refrigerator, pulling out two beers. She slid one over the counter to Bucky. “So your goal is to take away the super?”

“Not take it away. Just remind people that it’s not all that he is. He woke up in the future, found out we won the war, and then he got shoved right back into another one. That’s got to be tough. And everything’s enhanced, right? Hearing, sight, memory. What about emotions? Does he feel everything more intensely?”

She lifted her chin and stared at him. He did his best not to squirm. “When he came out of the ice, S.H.I.E.L.D. had no idea how to handle him, so they did what they do with any unknown entity. They put him in a cell that didn’t look like a cell and watched him. He was in an isolated cabin in the woods with files on all of his friends who, to him, he’d just seen days ago. Every single one of them dead save Peggy Carter.”

“And they’re the good guys?”

“They didn’t find a manual when they defrosted him, and he wouldn’t give us anything. He was lost, but he put on a brave face, acted like nothing was wrong. I’ve seen the tapes. Now that I know him, it’s obvious. It was the worst thing they could have done.”

“I think anyone with a functioning brain cell could have told them that.”

She took a long drink from her beer. “He likes you, and he’s usually a good judge of character.”

“Usually?”

She hummed again and leaned forward, elbows on the counter, bottle dangling from her fingertips. “He has this effect on people. When you’re around him, you try to be better. He sees the best in people, even the ones whose best isn’t all that good. Sometimes he sees what he wants to see. That usually ends up about how you’d expect.”

“Are you in love with him?” He held up his hand before she could answer. “Off the record.”

“He’s hard not to love.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“Everyone’s a little in love with him.” One side of her mouth quirked into a smile. “But that’s not what you’re asking either.”

“No.”

“I could be. If I believed in it.” She finished her beer. “Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“In love with him?”

“I barely know him.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.” She dropped her bottle in the recycling bin and gave him a wave of her fingers as she headed for the door. Bucky wasn’t completely sure, but he thought he might have just gotten some sort of shovel talk. 

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_”What about sex?”_

_Rogers chokes on his coffee, slapping his hand over his mouth to keep any from spraying. When he speaks, his voice is a good octave above normal. “What?”_

_“Sex.”_

_“Yeah, I got that part. I’m just not sure what you’re asking.” He puts his coffee down, and very studiously doesn’t look at me._

_“There’s an essay that Larry Niven – he’s a science fiction author – wrote called ‘Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex.’ Basically it comes down to the fact that Superman’s sperm would punch a hole right through anyone he had sex with. Now, admittedly, he’s an alien.”_

_“And fictional.”_

_“That too, but the same situation might apply to you. Did Stark or anyone try to find out if you could reproduce? Would you want to?”_

_“I don’t know that I want to talk about this.” He’s bright red and he won’t look at me. It’s embarrassment, that much is clear, but it feels like something else as well. “My life just isn’t – ” He pauses, looking upward as he searches for the right word. “Conductive to relationships.”_

_“I didn’t ask about those.”_

_“I don’t do one-night stands. I’m not condemning them. They're just not.” He blows out a breath and gives me a look that makes it clear that he’d rather be going toe-to-toe with the dinosaurs again. “Me.”_

_“What about you and Peggy Carter?”_

_“Peggy’s off limits. What we were to each other. What we had. It’s bad enough it’s out there for public consumption.”_

_“You two knew each other for two years.”_

_“Which part of ‘off limits’ are you not getting?”_

_“They say she was the love of your life.”_

_“We’re done.”_

_The problem is that he’s still stuck in bed, so he can’t walk out on me. I don't expect answers, really, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask the questions. “You were twenty-five when you went into the ice.”_

_“I’m aware.” His voice is like ice, cold and sharp._

_“She’s a lot older. Lived a full life. You’re twenty-eight now. All of it’s still fresh for you. Do you think you can move on?”_

_Rogers doesn’t say anything, his jaw set angrily, pulse jumping. I just keep looking at him, refusing to give him an out. He swallows hard, and it’s clear his teeth are clenched. It’s a standoff, and I’m not sure which of us is going to give first._

_“This is why I don’t talk to the press.” HIs voice is quiet, but I’m not foolish enough to think he’s surrendered. “I gave up my life to save the world. Willingly. And because of that, everyone got to tell my story however they wanted it. And now, under the guise of wanting the real truth, you think I owe you. What? The truth? Do you want to know if we were lovers, Mr. Barnes? Did Captain America get laid behind enemy lines?”_

_“That’s not – ” I don’t even get a chance to finish._

_“Get out.”_

_“Steve.”_

_He sits up, against all medical advice, and grabs me by the collar and pulls me close. I’m not afraid. This isn’t about power or intimidation. This is pure honest emotion. “Get. Out.”_

_He’s too angry to be stoic, so the pain he’s in is clear on his face. I reach out and grab his wrist, squeezing lightly. He lets go of me immediately and slumps back on the bed. He closes his eyes, and his lashes are dark, wet with pain? Exertion? Fear? Sadness?_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“You’re not the first. Won’t be the last. Don’t you know? We’re celebrities.” He says it so mockingly, I feel bad about my profession, which, in the age of twenty-four-hour news cycles and partisan channels calling themselves news, isn’t a new feeling. It is, however, the first time I’m ashamed of myself. “Our lives are up for grabs. Captain America runs in the park! See the grainy photos, since he runs too fast for a good picture! Is Captain America dating the Black Widow? Are Romanogers the new Brangelina? Is Tony Stark cheating on Pepper Potts? Is Bruce Banner a hulk in the bedroom? Take this quiz and find out if you’re Thor’s lightning strike lover or Captain America’s good girl.”_

_Those are all actual headlines, internet quizzes. Admittedly, they’re more _National Enquirer_ than _The New York Times_ , but he has a point._

_“I asked it badly. I was trying to ask if you could see yourself moving on. Not – ” It’s my turn to hold up my hand before he tries to sit up again. “Not if your feelings for Peggy Carter are null and void. More if you see yourself like Stark, finding someone to settle down with. Live a life with. If that’s something that Captain America – that Steve Rogers – could do. Would do.”_

_“This is my life.” He gestures at his body, then settles his hand just above his pelvis to bring the point home. “Danger. We know I heal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be killed.”_

_“We can all be killed.”_

_“My odds are a little higher than some.” He gives me a weak smile. “And most people don’t want the paparazzi invading their everyday life. And that’s what I’d be subjecting someone to. You think things are bad with Peggy? Who’s the new person in Captain America’s life? They’ll dig and dig and dig. And that’s assuming they actually pass Natasha’s clearance.”_

_“Natasha vets your dates?”_

_“She tries to set me up with people at S.H.I.E.L.D.. They may not have Avengers’ level of clearance, but they at least have some. Plus they’ve signed NDAs. And you probably don’t want to know what S.H.I.E.L.D. would do to someone who said something to the press about my bedroom habits.”_

_“I’m telling people about your bedroom habits. You’re terrible at staying in bed and listening to doctor’s orders. And given the comfort level of the end of your bed, your mattress is amazing.”_

_“I needed a firmer one than what was here. Too soft. I was used to a cot and then the ground.” He laughs, and shakes his head. “Sam was the one who figured it out. He served. He understood.”_

_I notice that he’s segued into another topic, and I let him for now. “Do you do much with veterans?”_

_“Sam works at the VA. Sometimes I go down and listen. They don’t really get me, you know? They think that being who I am, what I went through was easier. That seeing someone die in front of you was different for me than it is and was for them. Seeing someone your age or younger die? Die because you were the one that pulled the trigger? That isn’t easy for anyone.”_

_“No one thinks you killed people.”_

_“I’ve killed people. A lot of them. Most of them were bad guys. There were innocent bystanders too.” He shrugs and looks down at his hands. “You try. God, you try to get it right. You don’t always succeed.”_

_“What about World War Two veterans?”_

_“They appreciate what I did. But I look just like how I did then. They look at me and see everything they’ve lost.”_

_“What about what you lost? You didn’t get to come home from war. Make a life – with Carter or anyone else.” The wry smile he gives me tells me that he knows exactly what I’ve done, bringing the conversation back around._

_“I never expected to have any of that. Before Rebirth, every day I woke up was sort of a miracle. I should have died about thirty times over. After, I was at war. I wanted to fight. That’s what I went over there for. Peggy was a surprise. An amazing one. But unlike the guys who were going to go back to their lives, I had no idea what my life was anymore. I didn’t think beyond the war. Even those two years working with Peggy.” He bites his lower lip and furrows his brow. “I don’t know if she would have been happy being Captain America’s wife. She was… Peggy is a force of nature all on her own. She got married to someone who could be her partner. An equal. I don’t know if she could have had that if she had been with me.”_

_“With all the spotlight on you, she might have been able to do more.”_

_“Maybe. Guess we’ll never know.”_

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

“Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. “Thanks, though.”

“I wasn’t trying to – ” 

“I know. But you did.”

“You don’t think it’s a fair question?”

“I think it’s a question you have to ask.” He opened his eyes and looked at Bucky steadily. “It’s not one I have to answer.”

“Okay.” Bucky stood and walked to the door, then stopped and looked back. “Can I ask you another question? Off the record?”

“Is anything ever off the record? Really?”

“If I say it’s off the record, then I mean it.”

“I reserve the right not to answer it.”

Bucky nodded. “You never said woman.”

“Pardon?”

“When you talked about being with someone. You never said a woman. Someone. They. Person.” He watched Steve’s face, the microexpressions that darted across it, the drop of his eyes before he looked at Bucky again. “You’re bisexual.”

“None of that was a question.” He was stalling, and Bucky knew it. No doubt trying to find a way out of acknowledging what Bucky was saying. “I can’t give you an answer without a question.”

“Are you bisexual?”

“I’m a eunuch.”

“Ha. I see you in those sweatpants. You’re _anything_ but a eunuch. And trust me, there are a lot of pictures of you in those tights and that uniform.”

“Why does it matter?”

Bucky shrugged. “Because when I was growing up, there weren’t any heroes like me. And I won’t say anything regardless. That’s yours to decide what or what not to do with. But it’s nice. To think that maybe jerking off to posters of you wasn’t a completely futile gesture.”

Steve buried his face in his hands. “Don’t say things like that.”

“What? You have to know that you’re, like, the ideal man. Boys and girls all over the world were masturbating to pictures of you.”

“Stop.” Steve was half groaning and half laughing. “No one wants to hear that.”

“You mean Stark hasn’t said anything?”

“Tony has enough other issues with me without bringing sex into it. I can’t believe you told me that. I was happy in my ignorance. Now I can’t unknow that.”

Laughing, Bucky walked out of the room and headed down the hall toward the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder. “You’re welcome!”

Bypassing it, he headed toward the guest half of the apartment and into his room. He shut the door behind him, leaning on it and breathing hard. Steve hadn’t actually answered him, but he had all the same. And now, the guy Bucky’d spent years fantasizing about was obtainable.

Well, not obtainable in that he was Captain America, but not something entirely impossible. Of course it was something he couldn’t _tell_ anyone, because he hadn’t been lying about being off the record. And he loved and trusted his friends, but there was no way this kind of secret stayed secret.

“Oh my god,” Bucky whispered and sank down onto the floor, sliding down the door. He’d spent most of his pre-teen though mid-twenties with Captain America figuring large in his fantasies. Since he’d been staying with him, he’d spent a large amount of time deliberately not thinking about him. Reciting the “don’t be stupid, he’s straight” credo to himself.

But now.

“Fuck.” He bounced his head off the door, then buried his face in his hands, a copy of what Steve had done. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Mr. Barnes?”

He started, heart racing until he realized the voice was JARVIS. “Yeah?”

“You appear to be in some distress. Should I notify someone?”

“No! No. Thanks. I’m just… I’m fine. Thanks.” He braced himself on the door and levered up to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he turned around, opened the door, and froze. Black Widow was standing there, arms crossed, her expression flat yet somehow dangerous. “Oh. Um. Hi.”

She stepped toward him, and Bucky backed into the room. She didn’t say anything, just kept walking, then shut the door behind her when they were both inside. “Steve is a very nice, but sometimes incredibly stupid man. So we’re going to have a talk, you and me.”

“It was off the record. And how do you know?”

“Like I said, he’s sometimes incredibly stupid. Sit.” Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at her. “I know that you were told some questions were off limits. Peggy was on the list, but I know you got that taken off. However, Steve’s personal preferences and any current relationships he may or may not have is not fodder for you to get sales.”

“When I say off the record, I mean it. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have talked to me the other night. We both know that.”

“Steve and I having a romance wouldn’t actually cause that many waves, save for the fact that I’m a notorious Russian spy and he’s the shining beacon of America. But opposites attract, right? You might get a bump in sales.”

“You know, all of this is just confirming my suspicions.”

“Really? You think you know something. You don’t know for sure, but you think you do. And I’ve read what you’ve written, so we both know that you know very well how to say things without saying them, but implying the hell out of them.” She held him pinned with her glare. “When did you come out?”

“I… Pardon?”

“When did you come out?”

“I was fifteen. I finally admitted it to myself, and then I told my girlfriend at the time. She didn’t take it well.”

“And after that?”

“My parents. My friends. It was relatively easy for me.”

“It wouldn’t be for him. It’s going to be hard enough with your article trying to make him _human_. People are going to have problems with that. They don’t want him to be a person. They want him to be an ideal. Sexless, emotionless, stalwart, and true. You’re trying to show the world Steve Rogers, and they don’t like to remember there’s a person beneath the suit, because then they can’t make him what they want him to be. A spokesperson, a figurehead, whatever. So, I’m not telling you what to do, Barnes. But before you do anything, remember that he _is_ just a person under the Kevlar and cowl.”

“Ms. Romanoff?”

“Yes, JARVIS?”

“Captain Rogers would like me to inform you that you should mind your own business and leave Mr. Barnes alone.”

“Tell Captain Rogers I do what I want.” She smiled, then looked at Bucky again. “We have an understanding?”

“We had an understanding before you showed up. But it’s nice.”

“What is?”

“What lengths his friends go to for him. That says a lot about the man he is.”

“One more thing?” Her smile was dangerous, but genuine.

“Yes?”

“Don’t lead him on.”

“I’m not – ” 

“You thought about it the minute you figured it out. And he’s lonely. So don’t lead him on. Or I will kill you. Gladly.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_Rogers is up and walking two days later. He’s only been laid up in bed for five days altogether, but a scan done in Stark’s medical unit shows that he’s completely healed. “Bones take longer,” Banner informs me. “Otherwise he’d have been good to go maybe a day later? Probably before then.”_

_“Is that why you tried to replicate the serum?”_

_“I tried to replicate the serum because I was a dumb college student who thought he was smart enough to do what people had been trying to do for decades. I thought I had the secret with the gamma rays. Truth is, all I had was hubris.”_

_“Does it bother you? Working with him?”_

_“The first thing Steve said when he met me was about my reputation as a doctor and a scientist. Not about Hulk. About me.”_

_“He knows what it’s like to be the person behind the legend.”_

_“I don’t know if I’d call Hulk a legend, but yeah. He gets it.”_

_“What about the team? Do you think they see Steve Rogers?”_

_“I think we try. Sometimes I think Steve thinks people won’t like him when they get to know him, that he’s still the kid that got tormented or overlooked before the serum. Like the only people he ever mattered to was his mother and himself. So he hides behind Cap. I don’t think it’s on purpose. I think he just feels out of place here a lot still, and so he protects himself. Cap is a shield as much as the real one.”_

_“Wilson and Romanov seem to be close to him.”_

_“Sam’s just that guy. And Nat… Well, Nat’s just Nat.” He smiles. “If you want to see what Steve’s really like, come to game night tomorrow. The first night we had one? None of us could believe it was the same guy we knew.”_

_This I have to see._

_Rogers initially says he’s not going, but prodding and mocking from the other Avengers ends with us going into the common room. I look at the table and frown. I don’t recognize the game. “Bohnanza?”_

_“It’s the bean game.” Barton says with a shrug. “We played Acquire once, but you don’t do that with Stark around.”_

_Natasha leans in as I sit next to her. “It’s a cooperative game, really. You harvest beans, you trade beans. Some are worth more than others. It’s going to be amazing.”_

_The game is fun. More fun is watching Rogers. Where everyone else is trading beans and trying to win, he refuses to trade anything, making it a competition. He’s vicious and spiteful and intent on winning. What’s even more ridiculous is he wins._

_“We think he stacks the deck,” Stark says. “We’re not sure how. Cap magic.”_

_“Greatest tactical mind of my generation,” Rogers says, almost smugly. “Yours too.”_

_“Let’s play Trivial Pursuit. See you win that one.”_

_“Not fair,” Romanov says. “Russian. I don’t understand your American ways.”_

_Clint makes a noise of disbelief. “You’ve got more pop culture bullshit in your head than anyone I’ve ever met, Romanov.”_

_“Don’t mess with my mystique.”_

_“This is what it descends into every time,” Banner says under his breath to me. “Wait until we all give up and settle for Twister.”_

_I snort a laugh, because I think he’s joking._

_He’s not._

_“No fair! She’s bendy!”_

_“Barton, you used to be in the circus. You’re just as bendy.”_

_“Aw. Thanks for noticing, Cap.”_

_“I think we need to discuss the fact that our reporter here is holding his own.”_

_“Now, now, Nat.” Stark laughs as he spins the wheel. “We don’t need to know that kind of thing. But tell me, Barnes, are you right hand blue or left hand yellow?”_

_I lift my head to glare at Stark. “Both hands red.”_

_Stark chokes, and I smile victoriously. Banner looks over at the spinner. “Left foot green.”_

_I have to step over Romanov and Rogers, which is not an easy feat. Rogers himself is a huge obstacle, and Romanov is doing an impressive backbend. Stark is giggling like a child as I straddle Rogers’s back. This is not my shining moment._

_“Spin, Stark.”_

_Tony does as Natasha orders. “Right hand red.”_

_Romanov and Barton both go into full handstands. Rogers reaches across and I’m practically lying on top of him to reach it. Stark is actually laughing too hard to spin. I show him my middle finger while still keeping my hand on the circle. Romanov and Barton twist and land on their feet outside the game board._

_“Giving up?” Banner asks._

_“Oh, this is too much fun to watch.”_

_I’m not completely sure that I’m not being set up, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Rogers is nearly as red as the circle and his jaw is set. The next call gets us separated, but then it gets ruthless. I’m getting what all of the other Avengers call the “Captain America Is Disappointed With You” (capitals can be heard when it’s said, trust me) look. The rest of them watch, and Barton actually comes back into the room with a bowl of popcorn._

_“Your team is full of jerks.” Rogers laughs and bumps my hip with his, and I topple over. “You’re a jerk.”_

_He just smiles at me and then collapses on the mat as soon as he’s declared the winner. A cheater, but a winner. After that, there’s popcorn – and a popcorn fight, because apparently Barton is a six-year-old – and a movie. By the time the movie’s over, it’s four in the morning. Banner’s gone to bed, Stark has gone to his lab. Wilson had shown up and he, Barton, and Romanov are asleep on various couches around the room._

_“Is it like this a lot?”_

_“What?” Rogers looks at me, curious._

_“The team.”_

_“Not always. I mean, we have a lot of strong personalities and we don’t all get along all the time. But we try. This is as close to a family as most of us have.”_

_“When you were a kid, what did you think the future would be like?”_

_“I never expected to have a future.”_

_“When you first got the serum then.”_

_“Well, I had been changed from who I was to what I am now. I expected the future to be like the science-fiction novels. Flying cars, other planets, aliens, cloning, robots, spaceships, diseases cured. I thought everything would be better.”_

_“And now?”_

_“A lot of stuff is better. Maybe that’s all we can hope for.”_

_“And we do have aliens.”_

_Rogers shivers slightly. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I saw the Chitauri in my dreams for far too long after that battle.”_

_“What else do you dream about?”_

_Rogers laughs and gets up, heading for the elevator and, I can only assume as I follow him, his rooms. “Easy. Spacious skies. Amber waves of grain. Majestic purple mountains.”_

_“And a fruited plain?” I can’t help but smile in return when he turns to face me, wide grin on his face. “You really are a jerk.”_

_“That’s Captain Jerk, thank you very much.”_

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

“What made you decide to become a journalist?” Steve asked as they got off the elevator.

“There’s a lot we don’t know. A lot I don’t know. I wanted to figure it out. I wanted to figure people out. I got a sociology degree, but that got too political.”

“And the news didn’t?”

“Fair.” Bucky laughed. “But working for a magazine gives me a chance to be more thorough. It’s less about the drama of the headline and more about the story itself. I like to get to know people, what makes them tick.”

“Did you pursue the interview with Stark?”

“I proposed it, yeah. It was after Stane died and he really started getting into clean energy, turning the company around from manufacturing weapons. Everyone said it would fail, that Stark industries was done for. But hearing his plans firsthand showed me that he’d changed a lot. He came out of the desert a better man. Not everyone would have.”

“And you proposed this story?”

“You don’t give interviews. Most of the time you spend in public you’re wearing your cowl. You’re a mystery. No more real than the guy we read about in our history books.” He shrugged. “I figured you were hiding something.”

“And now?”

“You are. You’re hiding yourself. I haven’t quite figured out why though yet. I think some of it is because you’re still that little guy inside. I think you’re afraid of being used, of being hurt. But there’s something else.”

“That’s not enough?”

“It’s enough. I said it wasn’t _all_.” He frowned at Steve and followed him into the kitchen. Steve held up a bottle of water and one of beer. Bucky nodded to the beer, and Steve gave him one and took one himself. “You let the Avengers in. You have something in common with them. Is that what it is? No one else has been through what you have?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through what I’ve been through.” Steve shrugged and took a drink. “But, yeah, I guess. Shared life experience isn’t really something I’m going to find.”

“You’re almost thirty, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Nobody who’s almost thirty has any idea what the hell they’re doing. They may have a better grasp on technology and pop culture, but they’re just as confused as you are about being a person.” Bucky took a drink and watched Steve as he considered what Bucky said. 

“Maybe.”

“And you have to keep secrets about yourself. And get someone to see you and not the suit. How do you trust that someone’s friends with or dating Steve Rogers and not just there for Captain America?”

Steve shrugged again and stared down at his bottle. “Thanks for putting my life in perspective and depressing the hell out of me.”

“You’re lonely.” Bucky set his beer down and put both elbows on the counter island and leaned in. “How long has it been?”

“What?”

He looked startled as Bucky pulled off the counter and walked around to stand next to Steve. He put his hands on Steve’s shoulders and stared at him for a moment, watching a series of emotions spark through Steve’s eyes. Tugging lightly, Bucky pulled Steve down to meet him and slid his arms around his neck, holding him in a hug, refusing to let him move away. “How long has it been since someone touched you? Hugged you? Just because you’re you.”

Steve’s breath shuddered out of him as a hard shiver shook his body. Bucky hugged him harder, tighter, pulling him in as close as he could. Steve’s breathing changed to rough, halting gasps, his head pressed hard to Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky shifted his grip so he could wrap his arm around Steve’s side, rubbing his palm up and down the length of Steve’s spine. Steve’s head tipped back, his eyes closed, lips parted on shallow breaths. “Don’t they do this for you? Don’t they know you need it?”

“I don’t…” He cut himself off as Bucky pressed his hand to the middle of Steve’s back and held their bodies flush. Steve turned his head, his mouth close to Bucky’s ear, breath feathering his hair. He exhaled a quiet groan. “Oh, God.”

Bucky shivered then, fighting every instinct as Steve nuzzled against him, nose brushing his jaw. “Steve.”

His nose was replaced by his teeth as he scraped a soft bite at the hinge of Bucky’s jaw. A hot, sucking kiss followed it, and Bucky was glad Steve’s arms were so tight around him, since he was fairly certain his knees melted. His hand fisted in Steve’s shirt and his head fell back, giving Steve access to his throat.

Steve’s arms flexed, and Bucky’s feet left the floor. He wrapped his legs around Steve on instinct as Steve carried him over to the counter and settled him on top of it. Bucky whimpered as Steve’s mouth trailed down his throat, licking and sucking at his pulse point.

Bucky moaned as Steve pressed closer into the vee of Bucky’s spread legs. It was every single fantasy Bucky’d ever had, and he knew he needed to stop it. He leaned back slightly, getting his arms between them so he could hold Steve at bay.

“Steve. Steve.” He looked at Bucky with wide, black eyes, and Bucky wasn’t sure what Steve saw in his face, but his expression immediately shuttered. “We – ”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He backed away from Bucky hands up in front of him. “Of course. I’m. Fuck, I’m sorry. You… You shouldn’t have had to put up with that. I’m sorry. I’ll…” He cut himself off and turned on his heel, walking out of the room.

Bucky hopped off the counter and went to follow him, expecting the door to slam behind him. Instead it closed with a click, something quiet and painful. “Steve?” He leaned against the door, listening and hearing nothing. “Steve?”

There was no answer, but he hadn’t really expected one. He pushed off the door and headed back to his room, hating himself with every step.

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_”Captain Rogers is in the upper gym, Mr. Barnes.”_

_I’m still not used to JARVIS and what the protocol is, so I thank him and grab a coffee from the full pot. He directs me to the gym – a different one than before – and Rogers is there working the heavy bag. His white tank top is soaked with sweat, so I imagine he’s been there a while. He doesn’t stop, though I can tell when he notices me._

_Looking past him, there’s a pile of punching bags, sand spilled out of them, against the wall._

_Definitely been here a while._

_I have to raise my voice a little for him to hear me over the sound of his fists and the low grunts of effort. “What do you miss most about the past?”_

_“Privacy.” He stops and steps back. The bag is malformed from the beating it’s been taking. “Anonymity.”_

_He unwraps his hands, and the tape, as well as his knuckles, are the dark red-brown of blood. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, leaving a streak of color on his skin. He’s flushed. Pale skin, red face, blue eyes. For all that he is Steve Rogers, he really is the embodiment of Captain America._

_“So working with me hasn’t changed your mind about reporters?”_

_He gives me a look that likely makes the bad guys cower in fear. “No. No offense.”_

_“None taken.” I smile at him, undaunted. “We’ve only got a week left until I’m out of your hair. What do you hope people will get out of this article?”_

_“If you see us in uniform actively fighting the bad guys, put your phones away and run in the opposite direction. We can actually do our job better if we don’t have to worry as much about civilian casualties.”_

_“You’re going through all of this for a press release sound bite?”_

_“I’m going through this because Pepper asked me to.” He grabs a towel off the bench next to him, strips off his tank top and dries himself off. It’s an awe-inspiring sight. “Which is reason enough. Now, I’m going to go shower. I hope the rest of your questions can wait until I’m done with that.”_

_He’s not even to the door when the alarm sounds. It’s different than the last one, and I barely manage to get into the elevator before the doors are closing and we’re dropping stories at a rate that makes my stomach do things it’s not supposed to do._

_We get to his floor, and he’s in and out of his apartment practically before I can do anything. I just stand there as he comes into the elevator, and it starts moving before the doors are all the way shut. He’s got his shield in one hand and his uniform in the other._

_“What’s going on?”_

_“Aliens.”_

_“What?”_

_I have to run to keep up with him, and the jet takes off as soon as we’re on board. Which we manage at the same time, because he grabs me and hauls me inside. There’s a loud thump and the whole plane shakes. “Thor,” Steve leans in and says. “This is going to be a big one, so you do exactly as Hill says.”_

_“Trust me, I have no desire to be a hero.”_

_The back ramp opens and Thor comes in. He wraps an arm around Steve’s chest and starts spinning Mjolnir. They whip out of the jet followed quickly by each of the other flyers, all carrying someone. As soon as they’re airborne, ten holographic screens come up in the jet, one each from Wilson, Rhodes, and Stark, one from the jet itself, and six others from where, I don’t know._

_“Here.”_

_Hill hands me a small black object and taps her ear. I put it in, and suddenly I can hear all of the Avengers. Another jet approaches, not a quinjet, but something similar. A red cloud explodes from it, and Wanda Maximoff is lowering T’Challa, the king of Wakanda and the Black Panther, and Okoye of the Dora Milaje into the battle as the stone in Visions forehead emits a beam of gold light that cuts a swathe through the horde of aliens pouring from multiple ships._

_One of them lunges at one of the screens, its mouth opening, jaw unhinging. I fall back, saved from crashing into the floor by Hill. Its teeth are the size of my arm, and they’re so close together it’s impossible to tell how many there are._

_Hill barely reacts, seemingly watching all the screens at once. With that advantage, she helps direct the team. Filters of feedback from other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the area go through the jet, and she factors those in as well._

_After a few moments of being scared out of my wits, I watch her and listen to how the team responds to her. The nearest comparison I have is that she’s like an air traffic controller, directing them regarding what they can’t see, but leaving the actual running of the op to them. Rogers’s voice is steady and calm, slightly breathless when he’s busy beating back the creatures._

_It’s horrific and messy. There’s black oily sludge everywhere that seeps like blood from the fallen creatures. The Avengers on the ground are coated with it, mired in it. The ground is littered with dead carcasses, but there doesn’t seem to be an end to the creatures despite Thor’s lightning strikes and Vision’s laser, Wanda’s magic, repulsors, guns, arrows, claws, staffs, and the shield._

_The team talks less and less as the fight goes on, the only communication to direct someone to a new area, a teammate in need of assistance. Hill is rigid with tension, her voice sharp when she speaks._

_The Army and Air Force have mobilized, working on taking out the ships themselves. Watching it, I realize that the battle with the Chitauri – the “Battle of Manhattan” is a misnomer. None of this is a battle. It’s a war. Maybe a battle in the overall scheme of things, in the world where other planets, madmen, creatures, civilizations want to take us over – whether because we have the Avengers or not – but there on the ground, fighting what they’re fighting, this is war._

_People die in war, and seeing the dead lying around them, it’s easy to think the Avengers are winning, are better. But Okoye, Romanov, and Barton are all human. Skilled in ways most of us will never understand, but human all the same. Beneath their suits and wings, Wilson, Stark, and Rhodes are people just like you and me. Even Rogers, Banner, Maximoff, and King T’Challa are achingly mortal._

_Seeing them risk their lives for all of us, with no thought of the cost to themselves is breathtaking, awe-inspiring. Brave and insane. To volunteer for this – though Banner, Maximoff, and T’Challa can claim otherwise – seems beyond the realm of comprehension, but people have been signing up for the military throughout history, so maybe it’s not so different._

_A huge explosion beats at the air, and the jet rocks with the turbulence. The ships start imploding, falling in on themselves, though pieces fall off, crashing to the ground. A huge piece falls on a tank and Rhodes flies over to help the crew out and to safety – relative safety. The men are armed, so there’s at least some semblance of defense against the creatures._

_With their ships destroyed, the flow of creatures diminishes, and the ones that do crawl out from the rubble are wounded, and the military easily picks them off. The fall of the ships seems to fuel the rest of them, driving them even harder toward the Avengers. Barton goes under a swarm of the creatures, and Wilson swoops down, getting him out, kicking a few of them in the slathering teeth._

_He gets Barton up high so he can use his bow and arrow more effectively. Hill curses under her breath. I see an arrow thud into the back of one creature’s neck. It screeches loud enough to hear over Natasha’s comm as she climbs on its back and scales the rope that leads up to the tree Clint’s in._

_Suddenly the sky lights up, a bolt of lightning roaring down and hitting Rogers’s shield. He’s holding it over his head, and the impact is directly in the center of the star. It’s like flash lightning, except it goes horizontal, electrocuting some of the monsters, and rending some of the others in two._

_Another bolt comes down and hits the shield, but it wavers and I look to see that Rogers is on his knees, the teeth of one of the creatures sunk into his side._

_“Stark!” Natasha’s voice is sharp, but I think I can hear and underlying current of fear. It’s possible the fear’s my own projected onto her. “Steve’s down.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“That thing thinks you’re an all-you-can-eat buffet. Get him out of there, Stark.”_

_A repulsor blast hits the alien with its teeth embedded in Rogers. Its body flies back, but Stark has to prise the mouth open so the head can fall to the ground._

_“I’m – ”_

_“Don’t,” Tony snaps as he picks Rogers up in a bridal carry. “If you say the words ‘I’m fine’ I will shoot you myself. We’ve got this.”_

_There’s a burst of purple light as T’Challa lets loose the stored kinetic energy of his suit. Another mass of the creatures falls. It’s clear Stark is right. What was once a writhing mass of sleek black bodies and mouthfuls of yellow-white teeth is barely moving, the dead thick on the ground._

_Suddenly a ball of red light lifts a group of bodies, Maximoff barely breaking a sweat as she holds them aloft while the golden stone in Vision’s forehead comes to life and incinerates them.  
Banner is going after the ones still alive, the single-mindedness of the Hulk ripping them from the dead before throwing them back, just as lifeless as their brethren._

_Rhodes lands to direct the military forces, and the rest of them make their way back to their respective jets. Everyone’s voices are subdued, even though they’re louder without the sounds of battle to override them. It’s clear they’re all waiting._

_“I’ve got Rogers on a chopper and headed for New York.” Tony’s voice seems to let them all breathe. “I’m tagging along, and by that I mean making sure he doesn’t do anything stupider than normal. Or, no, something as stupid as normal.”_

_Rogers is almost inaudible in the background, which, given that he should still be wearing his communicator, is unnerving, since it seems to pick up even the slightest sound._

_“Wow,” Stark’s voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it, Scared. “You learn all those words in the Army?”_

_“He’s going to be okay,” Romanoff comes up behind me and I nearly land on my ass again when I jerk in surprise. “You only have to worry if Tony’s quiet.”_

_“So you’re not worried?”_

_She doesn’t answer beyond a small shrug. Which makes me worry even more._

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

Bucky slipped through the door and entered Steve’s room. He was still in the medical wing of Avengers’ Tower, and according to Stark’s ranting, he was going to stay there until hell froze over if he didn't keep his ass in bed.

There were actually two Iron Man suits standing sentinel outside the door, which was more than a little unnerving. At least to Bucky. Steve was apparently fine with it. He looked up as Bucky entered, his expression placid, which even after knowing him only this short amount of time, Bucky knew meant it was the last thing Steve was.

“Sam says the bites seem to be healing well. No toxins or anything in your blood.”

“That’s what the serum does.” He wasn’t rude, but it was clear seeing Bucky wasn’t on his to-do list. “I’m going to be cooped up in here for at least the next couple of days, and your week will be up by then. You don’t have to stick around.”

“I’d like to.”

“Why?”

“I’m a reporter. I still have questions.”

“You can leave me a list. Call me on the phone.”

“I think you got the wrong idea.”

He snorted, wincing slightly from the effort. “I had the wrong idea. I don’t anymore.”

“I wasn’t rejecting you.”

The huff of bitter laughter seemed to take a huge amount of energy, and Steve closed his eyes and pressed further into his pillow. “Until I got this body, I’d had a lifetime of people rejecting me. I had an eidetic memory before the serum, and that got amplified after. I am very intimately aware of what rejection is, looks like, and feels like. So let’s not try to pretend it was anything else.”

“Okay, well, how about I tell you why I rejected you while you’re in this body.” 

Bucky watched as Steve’s indecision plain across his expressive face. Once he nodded briefly, Bucky took a deep breath and reached out and held Steve’s hand in his, squeezing lightly, listening to Steve’s intake of breath.

“You’re probably one of the most touch-starved people I’ve ever met. You hold yourself apart even when you’re trying to be involved in something. I don’t know if your teammates see it, because they’re not much better themselves.”

“You barely know us. One month doesn’t make you any kind of expert.”

“You’re right. And I don’t claim to be, but I do know what I’ve seen as an outsider. You all care about each other. Would probably die for one another, but you’re like the blind leading the blind. None of you has a stable relationship outside the team, even Sam, who I would say is the closest to it, but none of you are okay.”

Steve looked like he wished he could get out of the bed. Looked about ready to. Bucky squeezed his hand again, ignoring the lack of reciprocation. 

“I don’t expect you to be. I don’t think anyone can go through what you went through and be okay after just a couple of years. But that’s not why. Not all of it. The fact is that you and I have an enforced closeness right now, and combining the two is where all of this is coming from.”

“Not even a month and you’ve figured out you know me.” 

“I just don’t want anyone to end up hurt.”

His smile was sharp, bitter. His eyes were cold. “Well, thank you for that, Mr. Barnes.” After that he closed his eyes. “Feel free to leave any time.”

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/c1/af/JG4suJi5_o.jpg)

_The past couple of days have been quiet. Rogers is still recovering, Romanoff and Barton are off on another mission, Wilson and Rhodes are back in DC, Thor’s on Asgard, Banner is locked in the lab with Stark working on the alien tech that was salvaged from the last battle. The others that showed up to help in the fight have gone back to Wakanda and Scotland respectively._

_Rogers spends most of the day sleeping, so I’m at loose ends. Thankfully, Pepper Potts shows up and saves the day, offering me tea and conversation. “How has it gone so far?”_

_“Good. It’s been good. Getting to know him.”_

_“He’s not stoic. I know it seems like that, but he’s really not. He feels things deeply, and I think he’s always a little lost. He’s rich, you know? Listed MIA, so the Army kept paying him and promoting him, so he woke up to a lot of money.”_

_“So living in the Tower isn’t to save on rent?”_

_She laughs, and I get the impression she’s just as protective of Rogers as Romanoff is. As they all are. “He donated most of it. He doesn’t want much for himself.”_

_“What does he want?”_

_“As far as I can tell? Dark chocolate. Club sandwiches with extra bacon, mayonnaise, and mustard. Books. Motorcycles. And world peace, but he can’t quite buy that one.”_

_“Seems pretty simple.”_

_“I think he’d like to walk away from all of this.”_

_“Really?”_

_“I think he’d like to have a house somewhere, a dog, a book of crossword puzzles, a pile of jigsaw puzzles, cooking lessons, and friends over for dinner. That’s the whole point of this, in a way. Everyone else gets to be a person. Even Tony, though I think he feels safer as Iron Man. Steve doesn’t have that luxury, because no one knew him. All we’ve ever known has been Captain America.”_

_“You don’t think he’s happy?”_

_“I think he’s happy to help. I don’t know if he’s ever had a chance to be happy.”_

_We talk about other things then, stories I’ve done and Stark’s newest scholarship. All the while though, I can’t help thinking of Rogers. Pepper excuses herself back to work and I make my way up to the medical wing._

_Rogers doesn’t look like he’s moved since the last time I saw him, but several of the bandages he’d been swathed in are gone, shiny pink scars fading back to perfect skin._

_“You’re still here? I promise, nothing exciting is going to happen while I’m laid up in here.”_

_“You get hurt on missions a lot?”_

_“Not usually. And not intentionally.” He doesn’t even bother to try to sit up, which makes me wonder exactly how much pain he’s in, given that the last injury didn’t stop him. He turns his head to look at me, and I wonder if my thoughts are written across my face. “Bones take the longest. Organs hurt the worst.”_

_“They think you’ll be here all week?”_

_“Bruce seems to think so, though he keeps reminding us that he's not a medical doctor. Dr. Cho won’t even talk to me, so I’m guessing Bruce is right.”_

_“So I have you as a captive audience?”_

_“You might as well just go home. You’re not going to learn anything more. If you learned anything at all.”_

_“What makes you say that?”_

_He exhales, and it sounds like he’s got the world on his shoulders. Maybe the universe. “The entire world can read your article and it won’t change anything. Maybe a few people will see beyond Captain America, but as much as you might show them I’m Steve Rogers? They don’t care about him. There’s no reason for them to. Most of them will never meet me. And the people who do? They meet Captain America. I appreciate what you want to do, but another week isn’t going to change that.”_

_“How can you be sure?” I have to ask, because even though Potts told me the same thing, I’m interested in his answer._

_“Because I’m almost a hundred years old, and nothing’s changed in that time either.”_

_He turns his head away, effectively dismissing me, and I wonder if he’s right. I’m relatively sure that he is. Will any of the people reading this care? Will people look at him and think “boo hoo, nobody likes him, his life is so hard?” I’d like to think it might humanize him._

_But how do you humanize someone who’s perceived to have no faults? I haven’t uncovered any deep, dark secrets. He holds himself to a high standard. He takes the blame when something goes wrong on their missions. There are no steamy romances or team strife. When it comes down to it, Steve Rogers is a good man. But he is, at the end of the day, just a man._

_I’m not sure that’s enough for the American public he defends._

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/78/80/ygL4e7ZD_o.jpg)

“So. I was a dick.”

Bucky looked up from his computer and nearly dropped his coffee. “St-Steve.”

Steve set a copy of the magazine down on Bucky’s desk.The glossy cover was brick red and Steve was centered on it, arms crossed over the shield, legs spread so it rested between them. To the side in white was the cover copy – a relatively sedate _The Man Behind the Shield: A Month in the Life of Steve Rogers_

Bucky had seen it the day after printng, so he’d seen the picture of Steve accompanying the article of him astride his bike. The headline – _Don’t Call Him Captain_ – had made Bucky roll his eyes, but in a way, it did fit the article. There was also a photo of all the of the Avengers from a press conference right after the alien attack. Steve was standing in the back, posture rigid, and since Bucky watched it live, he knows it was before he was completely healed.

He knew it was a good article, but he’d never had the object of his writing show up at his desk with a copy of said article. Especially one who, even dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap, could snap him like a twig.

Bucky tried not to focus on the thought. He’d turned Steve down, yes, but that didn’t mean he hadn't fantasized about saying yes.

He managed to set his coffee down without spilling it, despite the fact that his hand was shaking slightly. “What. Um. What brings you here?”

“Do you have a lunch break?”

“Yes? Yes. Um. Yes.”

“Do you think you could take it now?”

“Oh. Oh! Yes. Um. Yes. I can. Yes.” Bucky stood up, thankful he didn’t knock his coffee over onto his notes. “We could share my sandwich?”

“I was thinking I could take you to lunch. If that’s alright.” Bucky knew he must look like an idiot as he nodded, unable to stop even when Steve smiled at him. “Good. You might want a jacket. It’s a little chilly.”

“Steve Rogers-chilly or normal person-chilly?”

“Put on a jacket.”

“Right. Thanks. Yes.” It was a good thing Bucky wrote instead of talked for a living. He put his jacket on, annoyed his hands were still shaking slightly. Steve stepped back so Bucky could precede him out the door, then fell in step with him. 

They left the building and Steve took him to a restaurant several blocks away, which Bucky was grateful for, since it meant less of a chance of any coworkers running into them. They sat at a table in the back, Steve facing the front, even though he’d be less noticeable facing the back. 

“It’s a real thing then?”

“What’s that?” Steve stopped looking at the menu and met Bucky’s eyes. 

“The whole back to the wall, sight lines, hyper-aware thing.”

“Yeah, but mostly I just like people-watching.” He smiled at Bucky and kicked his foot under the table. “Usually it’s better not to be seen with me, because tabloids will get the wrong idea. And,” He took off his hat and sunglasses, setting them on the seat beside him. “Since I’m no longer in disguise…”

“You know that’s the shittiest disguise ever, right?”

“You’d be surprised. No one expects to see me, first off. And second, they expect to see me walking around in the uniform. So it works pretty well.”

“People are ridiculous.”

“Yeah.” He looked back at the menu, and Bucky did the same, though he kept looking at Steve through his bangs. He started slightly when the waiter came to get their order, but managed not to stumble across the words. It was clear the waiter recognized Steve – which, really, how were a hat and sunglasses a disguise? – and between his wide eyes and Steve’s natural charm, Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if he got something else entirely, so it likely didn’t matter.

Steve leaned closer and addressed the waiter by name. Bucky could tell he’d completely forgotten he was wearing a nametag, and obviously thought Steve had super name-knowing powers. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Yes?” He squeaked.

“If you don’t tell anyone I was here until I’m gone, I’ll pose with you and let you get a good selfie.”

“Oh. Yes. Sir? Do I call you sir? Mr. Captain?”

“You don’t need to call me sir or captain. I’m just a regular guy having lunch.”

“Yes. Of course. Oh. I should get your order in.” He scurried away, and Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve. The thought that he might have looked exactly as flabbergasted as their waiter seemed to have calmed him down.

“You’re a manipulative little shit.”

“You lived with me for a month and you’re just now realizing this?”

“No. It just bears repeating.”

Steve took a sip of his water and sighed before looking at Bucky. “It was a good article.”

“I know. But thank you.”

Laughing, Steve shook his head. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Given how you basically kicked my ass out, I didn’t think you were dropping by for a social visit.”

“That’s the other thing.” Steve bit his lower lip. “I was a dick. You turned me down and I wanted to lick my wounds in private, but you were right there, so I took it out on you. That was unfair. And you had every right to put all of that in the article, but you didn’t.”

“I assumed that was all a natural extension of the off-the-record conversation.”

“It wasn’t said though, and you could have easily used what happened to evade actually using the other conversation.”

“Some journalists do have ethics,” Bucky reminded him tersely.

“Shit. I don’t mean to imply that you don’t.” Steve raised his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to let you know I appreciate it, and I’m sorry I put you in that position. I know… I know that it’s a scoop, and it would look good for you, would have bumped your sales even higher. Probably given you a career boost. So… Just. Thanks.”

Bucky shrugged, but he knew his cheeks had to be pink with his blush. “Yeah. Well.”

“I also wanted to tell you that you were right. I mean, not that you need me to tell you, but you were right to turn me down. And I appreciate it.”

“I think that’s a compliment?”

“It is.” Steve laughed. “I promise. I just... I don’t want to have sex with you. I mean, shit.” He broke off as the waiter brought their food to the table. Steve smiled up at him, which Bucky was pretty sure caused the guy to swoon. As soon as he’d left, Steve stabbed a fry with a fork.

“So you were talking about how you don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I don’t want to _just_ have sex with you. I mean, I like you. You kind of grew on me. So, I’m glad you didn’t let me... or come with me to... Um.” Steve’s face was hot with a blush, and he drank down half his glass of water. “Anyway. I was wondering if you’d like to go out on a date.”

Bucky exhaled. “Your job is dangerous. I knew you a month, and you were seriously wounded twice in that time.”

“Insurance is a bitch. Apparently super serum is a pre-existing condition.”

“You’d have me on blood pressure medication before the second date. Hell, just living with you for a month probably means I should be on blood pressure medication.”

Steve’s head dipped and he pushed several fries out of the way before picking one up. “Yeah.” He dropped the fry and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “If you want, we can get them to pack yours to go. The apology was the important thing. The rest was…” 

Bucky watched Steve’s shoulders hunch, could see the tick in his jaw as he tightened it. Bucky reached out, his hand on the table near Steve’s plate. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“Except you don’t want to. It’s okay. I get it. I’ll just pay the check and I’ll have them box up both. You could maybe give mine to a homeless person?”

“It’s that I’m scared. Your job scares me. It has to be done, and I know you have to do it, but it still scares me. Because I was worried as hell about you and I wasn’t dating you then. If we were, I might completely lose my shit.” He turned his hand over, palm up, waiting for Steve to put his own in Bucky’s. He did, and Bucky squeezed. “But I’m going to worry about you anyway. So maybe I can get some solid making out for my trouble.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth curled up in the hint of a grin.”I think that could be arranged.”

“Good.” Bucky ducked his head so he could meet Steve’s eyes. “But just so you know, this doesn’t count.”

“Count?”

“As a date. So pick me up tomorrow at seven?”

“Yeah.” Steve grinned. “I can do that.”

*********************

[ ](https://images2.imgbox.com/cc/6b/J71cs6RI_o.jpg)

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